


starting at one

by jeien



Category: Hypnosis Mic, Hypnosis Microphone
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeien/pseuds/jeien
Summary: Ichiro learns a few things he didn't expect to as he lets Ramuda take his measurements.





	starting at one

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this out of nowhere mostly because Hana drew [this cute comic](https://twitter.com/tsunanas/status/958359791096623104) of Jakurai and Samatoki having a casual chat. also because of a headcanon that Ramuda probably helped out Ichiro with his custom Buster Bros!!! soles.

“Ichiro, you are like my own baby and I love you, but I swear if you keep moving around, I’m going to throttle you into the next division.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ichiro apologizes, clenching his fists tighter as he holds his arms up. Despite being the coy little plaything for the ladies to coo and fight over, Ramuda has always been very serious about his work—even if it had been just sewing up a ripped pair of jeans. Those threats were not to be taken lightly. More so now that he’s in Ramuda’s studio, where he could experience countless possibilities of fashion-related murder. “You don’t have to do this, though.”

Ramuda coils the tape measure loosely around his wrist and writes down the vertical measurements of Ichiro’s side. “Let’s call this an added payment for the info about Gentaro. Best investment ever. Besides, I already referred you to that one guy to custom make your shoes, so I figured I’d finish the rest of your outfit.”

 “Please don’t do a repeating tile pattern of our logo.”

“Hold this.” Ichiro reaches back to hold the metal tip of the tape measure in place while Ramuda comes down from the stepladder. “Anyway, I’m a professional, Ichiro. I’d just do a giant sequin embroidering of it across the back of your jacket.”  

“ _Please_ , no.”

“Ki~dding~” Ramuda giggles with the consistency of bubbles from a newly opened ramune bottle. The tape measure rolls down to where his tailbone is. “Oh my god, how the hell did you manage to add nearly six centimeters to your torso since the last time I took your measurements? That’s just not fair!”

Ichiro barely bites down the urge to say _Still not as tall as Jakurai-san, though_. He’d already heard his fair share of complaints about the doctor’s height back when the Dirty Dawg was still in its peak. “Must’ve been puberty.”

“You Yamadas must be born with some freakish genes if you’re all that absurdly tall,” Ramuda huffs out with mock-annoyance. “There’s a ten-year age gap between me and your youngest brother and he still manages to be nearly twenty centimeters taller. And you guys have such weird eye colors that’d make any geneticist write an award-winning dissertation solely on how the hell it works.”

(He pointedly doesn’t correct him that they wear colored contacts. For reasons of the anime kind.

Well, Saburo mostly just because he’s still a little chuuni.)

“Glad to know you consider us one of the great mysteries of the universe, Ramuda,” Ichiro says, letting his arms fall to his sides. He can tell they’re done by how his former teammate tosses his tape measure over his shoulder, not caring about it potentially tangling with his belts. “Seriously, though, you really don’t have to do this.”

Ramuda looks up at him with relaxed brows and a softened smile. It’s an expression that’s unusually candid for him—the only instance Ichiro has ever seen that marked his true age. “I never did get to make a team wardrobe for the Dirty Dawg like I wanted.”

There had been a lot of things the four of them had left behind when the Dirty Dawg disbanded. It’s only natural to feel some sort of regret for not being able to fulfill their simple wishes from back then, but Ichiro doesn’t think that any of them would change the outcome if given a second chance. It had all been for the best.

He gives a smile of his own. “So you decided to just dress up your competition instead?”

“Hey, if we’re going to battle, I want my opponents to look just as flawless as I do!” The childish persona returns with a flourish of Ramuda’s arms. “I’m a man on a mission and I might as well start with you! Anyway, I’ll call you when your jacket’s done so you can come pick it up. I know it’s about midterms season for your bros, so I’ll wait a little before making you drag them in for their measurements.”

“How considerate of you.”

“Rude! I’m always considerate!”

Ichiro waves goodbye as he steps out of the room. As the door closes behind him, he hears a quiet click of the tongue followed by a murmur of _Oh, shoot, Mad Trigger Crew’s gonna be a complete nightmare to fix_.

**Author's Note:**

> _chuuni - short from the japanese term “chuunibyou”, which refers to when teenagers try to act cool/mature/edgy but can’t really since they’re still just kids_
> 
>  
> 
> as always, come scream with me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/jeienb)


End file.
